Our Gravity

by Tymber Dalton

  “I want you in here. Trust me, it won’t embarrass me.”

  “Okay.” He had a feeling it might embarrass him, though, but he’d keep his mouth shut.

  An hour later, they’d hit a drive-thru for lunch—her treat—and were heading to Dustin’s place so he could pack some more things.

  “You were adorable,” she teased. “Your face was so red.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Nothing to apologize for.” She reached over and patted his arm. “Thank you for today. I really appreciate it. Are you usually off Mondays and Tuesday?”

  “Not always. Depends on when I have closings or showings.”

  “I’ll coordinate with you on the oncology appointments. If you can’t go, I’ll figure something out.”

  “Because you don’t want Bryce there.”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “Thank you.”

  She shrugged. “I love him. He’s still trying to accept the facts, and I get it. He loves me. He’s hoping for a miracle, even though his brain knows that won’t happen. The true miracle will be delivering a healthy baby, at full-term, and I’m awake and aware to meet him or her.”

  She sniffled, turning toward the window. “And I don’t even know if that’s going to happen or not.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Four weeks after Kira’s arrival, and Dustin had moved all his things over to Bryce’s, cleaned the apartment, and turned in his key. Bryce had apparently opted for denial and shoved any and all thoughts beyond the baby’s arrival into a mental closet, closed it, locked it, nailed boards over it, and then wrapped it in electrified razor wire.

  Before he dug an alligator-filled moat in front of it.

  Dustin had settled into a sort of confidant and co-conspirator relationship with Kira. With him, she could fully vent or cry or discuss things outside of Bryce’s ken. Things she knew would add unnecessary stress or grief to Bryce’s already overwhelmed shoulders.

  Dustin was happy to do it and be that for her. And he did little things for her, too, like once he discovered her favorite foods and snacks, he made sure they kept them stocked. She wasn’t watching her weight now, and while she did eat healthy foods, even her obstetrician gave her permission to have extra dessert or snacks if she wanted.

  As her headaches increased, Dustin made sure they kept cold packs in the freezer and that she didn’t run out of peppermint oil, which she used on her temples, something that wouldn’t hurt the baby like many painkillers might. When Dustin found out Nate, one of the Suncoast Society regulars, practiced acupuncture, Dustin arranged for him to start coming to the house a couple of times a week to work on Kira.

  They did go to the club most Saturday nights, Kira staying at home, but their home play was curtailed despite Kira’s assurances it wouldn’t bother her. Ironically, Dustin found it nearly impossible at home to get into a submissive headspace and stay there long if he was naked outside their bedroom, leading Bryce to permanently rescind the naked rule.

  On the other hand, Dustin took great pleasure doing little things around the house for Kira and Bryce. Whether it was fixing their morning coffee for them, or making sure the laundry made it from the washer to the dryer—anything like that gave him a needed mental submissive fix.

  It also freed Bryce in many ways to spend time with and focus on Kira during their waking hours.

  At night, after playing or making love, it wasn’t uncommon for Bryce to cry himself to sleep in Dustin’s arms.

  The obstetrician had performed a blood test which confirmed both that the baby didn’t have certain genetic issues, and her gender.

  Now they awaited the arrival of Jennifer Bryn Butler, aka Jenny.

  Meanwhile, Bryce busied himself buying everything baby-related that Kira would let him.

  Everything.

  Evvvveerrrrythiiing.

  From Daddy’s Little Princess onesies, to toys, a crib, a stroller—everything. Even Dustin had to admit it was adorable, in a heartbreakingly sad kind of way. Dustin ironically found himself now praying Kira delivered a healthy baby who survived, because if she lost the baby, it would likely destroy Bryce.

  He was currently driving himself crazy researching car seats. One night, while the three of them sat on the couch and watching TV, Kira between the two men, Bryce had been talking to them about different models, the pros and cons.

  While Bryce had been head-down over his laptop, Kira sent Dustin an adorable, knowing smirk.

  In that moment, he realized—and reconciled—how much Kira kept back from Bryce on a daily basis. It was Dustin she let see how bad her headaches really were. It was Dustin she’d literally lean on to walk to or from the car.

  This was a service, being of service. Not just to Kira, but to Bryce.

  Protecting him as much as possible from the worst. From the truth.

  Bryce was no idiot, and Kira and Dustin understood that. If he really wanted to open his eyes and see what was going on, he could.

  Instead, Dustin chose to focus on the baby, and on the good things he could focus on, like his deepening friendship with Kira, and his relationship with Bryce.

  He also took a key portion of Seth’s advice to heart and took as many photos and videos of Kira as he could, especially with Bryce. Likewise, he made a point of having deeper conversations with her, learning about her, things he could pass on to Jenny later.

  He suspected she was also writing, leaving letters the way Seth had reported Kaden did.

  Kira’s parents had been understandably upset by the news, and perhaps hurt that she’d gone to Bryce and made all the arrangements without talking to them first. They’d had a couple of private phone calls with Bryce, too, trying to discover her true state of mind.

  Except they also admitted Kira had pegged their financial situation accurately, something they hadn’t wanted her to know about.

  They’d be coming in two weeks to spend a four-day weekend, flying into Sarasota and staying in the third bedroom, which now held the futon, with Bryce’s desk moved into a corner of the living room. Bryce bought their tickets for them. And they wouldn’t have to spend money for a rental car or hotel room, and Dustin was in complete agreement about paying for groceries and spending time as a family rather than going out to eat.

  Going out to eat also grew more problematic, because Kira had been hit by morning sickness, in addition to her more frequent headaches. Except the morning sickness would hit her at all times of the day.

  That particular Sunday, though, Dustin didn’t have an open house scheduled, even though he did have some afternoon appointments to show a house. That meant he’d get to participate in Banana Pancakes.

  When Kira emerged from her bedroom that morning, she wore her USF ball cap, her hair pulled into a ponytail out the back. Bryce had already put the music on. As the first bouncy Jack Johnson melody filled the room, it allowed Dustin a brief respite. He could pretend the growing lines on Bryce’s face weren’t there, forget about holding him last night as he’d cried himself to sleep in Dustin’s arms.

  As Kira crossed the kitchen, Bryce swept her into his arms and leaned in to speak to her stomach. She’d started to show, fascinating Bryce.

  “Welcome to Banana Pancakes, Jenny.”

  Kira laughed as she ruffled his hair, but sadness filled her eyes as her gaze locked with Dustin’s. Sensing her mood, Dustin swooped in to start dancing with her, carefully holding her so she wouldn’t trip, singing off-key with the song on purpose, mangling the words and making her laugh.

  Triggering an avalanche of laughter from Bryce as he started to prep their breakfast.

  Crisis averted.

  * * * *

  Once Dustin had left to go to work that Sunday, Bryce mentally stapled his happy face in place and tried to figure out what he could do with Kira that day.

  She made the decision for him.

  “Let’s go over to the beach. Down to Manasota Key.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, my
stomach’s feeling up to it.”

  “Sure. We can go.” He didn’t want to take her around crowds of people. The last thing she needed in her condition was to get sick. Another reason he was fine staying home with her. He’d been frequently washing his hands and using hand sanitizer at work to an almost obsessive extent, terrified he might bring some illness home to her.

  Once they parked, he kept his gait slow as she held on to his arm and he led her over the boardwalk and down the sand to the water’s edge. She’d donned a pair of sunglasses and wore an oversized T-shirt over a pair of loose shorts. She kicked her sandals off, but before she could bend over to pick them up, Bryce grabbed them. He’d left his own shoes in the car.

  “You don’t need to go overboard, sweetie.” She wiggled her toes in the surf, stirring up fragments of shells and other debris.

  “I want to take care of you.” Except for the very first appointment, he hadn’t missed a single visit with the obstetrician. Dustin had made a few of those, but he always worked his schedule around her oncology appointments and took her to those, not that there was much Dr. Murphy could do except talk to her and read through the reports sent over from the obstetrician. Kira had enacted a moratorium on any scan that wasn’t specifically to do with the baby. Ultrasounds were fine, obviously, and, so far, everything looked good.

  “You are taking care of me. You and Dustin, both. I love you guys.”

  She bent at the knees and smiled as she picked up a shark’s tooth, black with age, and the sharp edges dulled. She handed it to him. “Remember how we loved coming here in high school? We could kill hours digging.”

  “Yeah.” He took a couple of pictures as she looked for more, then some video, and part of him silently understood her rationale for this trip even though he didn’t want to consciously admit it.

  One more memory for Jenny for later.

  In one of the boxes she’d shipped from Texas had been her three keepsake jars, filled mostly with sharks’ teeth and other shells she’d found during their youth, most of them with him at her side.

  Some of the few things she’d wanted to pass down to Jenny, or give to Bryce.

  Like her high school yearbooks.

  Photo albums and pictures from the walls, most of the later removed from the frames to make it easier to ship them.

  A few cherished items, gifts from him or her parents.

  In her suitcases, she’d brought more keepsakes than clothes, because she was buying clothes from Amazon to fit as needed, refusing to get more than necessary. Or she borrowed T-shirts from Bryce and Dustin.

  What she left unsaid—that she wouldn’t need any clothes later.

  “Don’t forget to take care of Dustin, B.” She handed him another shark’s tooth. “Your boy loves you. How about you take him out to dinner tonight and romance him? Maybe get a room overnight somewhere.”

  “Why?”

  “Because right now, I’m okay. I can be by myself overnight. He’s off work tomorrow. You said you don’t have appointments or court tomorrow. Call Kimbra and take the day off. She’s been begging you to use some vacation time.”

  “I’ll need that…” Pain choked his throat, forbidding him from saying the last word.

  Later.

  “I already made the hotel reservation for you, so it’s not up for discussion. It’s five minutes from the house, so if I do need you, I’ll call.” She smiled up at him. “Spank the crap out of him, fuck the hell out of him, and let him moan as loud as he wants without worrying who can hear.” Her expression gentled. “And you can cry as loud as you need to, sweetie.”

  “This isn’t fair.” He hadn’t meant to go there, didn’t want to go there with her. Wanted to stay upbeat and positive for her.

  “No, what’s not fair is my ass getting bigger before my boobs.” She looked down at her chest and the expression on her face pulled the laugh out of him before he could process it. “Buuuut, life’s not fair. Besides, Mom and Dad will crimp your weekend style in a couple of weeks. You two need to go spend the night out, enjoy each other, and remember why you love each other.”

  “Is there anything you’re not telling me?”

  She grinned. “A shit-load. You’re welcome. But Dustin’s here to help shoulder that. No nasty surprises, honey. I’m only letting you deal with what you need to deal with.” She hugged him. “And you gotta promise me you won’t let Jenny be some spoiled rotten, entitlement-minded brat. Raise her right, like our parents raised us.”

  “I promise.” Bryce’s parents, Eric and Tina Butler, had driven down last week from Tallahassee and had dinner with them. While there, Bryce’s father had taken a look at all the paperwork they’d filed for Kira, and he’d agreed with Ed’s assessment that everything looked to be in order. He’d also known Ed from when he’d practiced law in Sarasota, and agreed he was an excellent choice to have waiting in the wings.

  They were also sad for what was happening to Kira, but couldn’t fault her reasoning or her plan.

  She stooped and plucked another shark’s tooth from the surf. She’d always had a better eye for finding them than Bryce did. He had to be right on top of them, kneeling or sitting, to see them. She could be walking along and barely paying attention and spy them.

  Pressing it into his palm, she smiled at him. “And let her get her hands dirty. Pull weeds in the flowerbeds with her. Teach her how to check the oil and change a tire, like Dad taught me. Don’t raise a pampered princess who can’t take care of herself.”

  He studied the tooth, another black one, this one longer and thin and rounded instead of a triangular, flat one. “I promise.”

  “You’re going to be an awesome dad. Both of you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Bryce was ready when Dustin returned home that evening. He’d dressed up for dinner—slacks, button-up shirt, tie. He’d also packed for them and left the bag in the trunk of his car.

  Dustin’s eyebrow arched when he spotted Bryce’s attire.

  “Don’t even get comfy, boy,” Bryce told him. “We’re going out.”

  “Out?”

  “Out.”

  Kira sat on the couch, her smile playful. Archer had settled in her lap and was soaking up affection from her. “Out,” she said. “Fun time for you two tonight. So…shoo.”

  Bryce got Dustin turned around and headed out to his car. Didn’t even let him put his laptop down first.

  “What’s going on?” Dustin asked once they were in the car.

  Bryce patted him on the thigh. “Kira gave me some marching orders for tonight. She made us a hotel reservation.”

  “She going to be okay alone?”

  “The hotel is five minutes from the house, and she promised to keep her phone on her at all times in case she has any problems.”

  Bryce knew darn well sex with Dustin—and play—had quickly become an escape for him. Losing himself in the other man’s body was no difficult feat, either. He’d also noticed Dustin had quickly become conditioned, his cock stiffening any time Bryce scruffed him by the back of the neck, or pointed at the floor for him to kneel, or any other number of things, small and large, that Dustin had come to associate with their dynamic and play.

  Sometimes, the only thing that could take Bryce’s mind away from reality and give him a brief respite from his growing grief was Dustin.

  One sweet, pure thing in his life, nothing but comfort and love and willing to do whatever he could for Bryce.

  Bryce drove them to a steakhouse for dinner, no reservations needed. On the walk from the car inside, he led slightly, his fingers laced through Dustin’s, and not giving a shit who saw them together or what they thought of them.

  He’d damn well take his boy out to eat if he wanted.

  Walking up to the hostess stand, he offered her a smile. “Two, please. Booth.”

  “Certainly, sir. Right this way.” She didn’t hesitate, either, her smile genuine as she grabbed two menus and marked off the table on her chart before leading them to their
table.

  Once they were seated at the table, Bryce wasted no time mentally dropping Dustin hard and deep where he wanted him. He used his left toe to nudge Dustin’s legs apart at the ankles. Not that he’d do anything to him here, of course, but he certainly could see exactly how well-conditioned his boy had become.

  Bryce didn’t look up from the menu when he quietly spoke. “Legs apart, boy.”

  Sensing more than seeing, he knew Dustin had complied without hesitation.

  “Good boy.” He also reached over and closed Dustin’s menu, gently tugging it from his hands and sliding it under his. All without making eye contact with him. “I’ll order for us.” He lightly brushed the toe of his shoe along the inside of Dustin’s right calf before pulling away.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Now Bryce looked up, smiling. “My very good boy.”

  * * * *

  Holy…fuckballs!

  Dustin’s pulse drummed in his throat. As he sat there with his aching and throbbing cock uncomfortably pressing against his zipper, his mouth dried up as Bryce’s gaze swiveled up and onto him.

  Bryce smiled, the sexy, evil smile he gave Dustin in the dungeon when he was particularly proud of him.

  Or in the bedroom.

  The two were quickly becoming interchangeable for him.

  Had he once been worried about Bryce being too young for him?

  Fuck that noise, it was like the man radiated an easy confidence that he wore in a sexy-as-fuck kind of way.

  When their waitress arrived to take their drink orders, Bryce smiled up at her. “We’re ready to order, too.”

  “Sure.”

  “Prime rib for both of us, mine rare, his medium rare. Bleu cheese on my salad, ranch on his. Baked potato with butter and sour cream for both. And we’ll both have water and sweet iced tea.”

  Hell, it was what he most likely would have ordered anyway, and exactly the way he would have ordered it. His heart warmed.

  Bryce paid attention, even to tiny details. Hell, he’d dated a guy once for six months who couldn’t remember that he hated bleu cheese, much less how he liked his prime rib cooked.